


Pride and Joy, but mostly Joy

by Dreamsofmusic



Category: Anne of Green Gables
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsofmusic/pseuds/Dreamsofmusic
Summary: Days turned to night and hours went by and still the little white baby was fighting to live. The doctor father sat by the crib, watching, waiting for that moment where she would still. But it had yet to come. A voice in his head said that she was going to make it, while another said it was only a matter of time. Maybe a week. She wouldn’t last past a week. She had yet to wail or even whimper.“Please Gil,” the mother whispered from the bed, breaking the silence. She wanted to hold her. He picked the baby up and carried her across the room. Settled in her mother’s arms her large grey eyes opened, which made her parents smile sadly.“Don’t lose hope because she isn’t. She wants to stay,” Anne said.—————-Anne proved to be right, Little Joy Blythe hung on, she was determined to be on this earth for longer than intended. She was needed, maybe it wasn’t obvious yet but it would become so.The confidante of her siblings, the maker of music, the one who’s spirit could never be broken.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Days turned to night and hours went by and still the little white baby was fighting to live. The doctor father sat by the crib, watching, waiting for that moment where she would still. But it had yet to come. A voice in his head said that she was going to make it, while another said it was only a matter of time. Maybe a week. She wouldn’t last past a week. She had yet to wail or even whimper. “Please Gil,” the mother whispered from the bed, breaking the silence. She wanted to hold her. He picked the baby up and carried her across the room. Settled in her mother’s arms her large grey eyes opened, which made her parents smile sadly. “Don’t lose hope because she isn’t. She wants to stay,” Anne said.

* * *

Anne proved to be right, Little Joy Blythe hung on, she was determined to be on this earth for longer than intended. She was needed, maybe it wasn’t obvious yet but it would become so. The confidante of her siblings, the maker of music, the one who’s spirit could never be broken.

* * *

Ingleside was always full of life, full of noise and full of places to hide when you wanted to escape. And today was one of those days for an eight year old Joy Blythe. Everywhere she had sat to write her letter to Cora someone interrupted her. It had started in the living room, but then Jem wanted to play a rather loud game of toy soldiers with Walter, she moved to the kitchen but Di was sitting at the table, under the watchful eye of Susan ,until she finished the carrots on her plate, and she was being very vocal about how she didn’t want to do this. She next tried her bedroom but could hear Shirley crying in the nursery next door. So she took herself to the quiet sanctuary of the house.  
Her father’s office - where she wasn’t quite allowed to go on her own.

Her father wasn’t due home until well after dinner, so no one would have a reason to come in. She placed herself in his large spinning chair and got to work.

_Dear Cora,  
Happy birthday! I hope you liked the present we all sent you. Mother says we will be coming to Avonlea for the new year. That isn’t long at all. Only five weeks. Has it snowed yet? The snow princess visited us last night and cover the valley in a perfect blanket of snow. I can’t wait to go outside in it, but daddy says I must wait till my cold has gone away. He should know it never goes away. I’m always sniffy. I hope tomorrow to build a snowman-_

The office door squeaked open and Joy froze. Caught red-handed - using one of her fathers pens nonetheless! But it was only Nan, who also froze at the sight of her sister. And then Joy noticed what was in her hands. As many cookies as she could carry; pinched from Susan’s batch for the prayer meeting. Joy grinned and stood up. She walked over to the little couch and Nan rushed to sit beside her.

“Our secret!” Joy said, taking a cookie. “Did you ever hear the story of the twelve princess?” Nan shook her head and curled into her elder sister’s side, ready to listen to Joy weave a tale of magic.

It didn’t take the four year old long to nod off and soon enough her sister joined her. And this is how they were found an hour or so later, by the father returning home. The doctor couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly looked over his room. There was a pile of cookie crumbs on the floor below his daughters and on his desk he could see blobs of dark blue ink. Nan’s hazel eyes opened and she blinked once.

“Daddy,” she mumbled still half asleep. And then she realised. She sat up quickly. “We weren’t doing anything wrong, promise.”

“Except eating cookies in my office?” Gilbert asked, with a raised eyebrow. Nan smiled and tapped Joy’s cheek.

“Wake up.”

“Nan,” Joy groaned. She stretched and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Nice nap Joy?” Gilbert asked.

“Oh Daddy,” she said.

“I think it’s almost time for dinner. Why don’t the two of you go and wash up?” Nan nodded, jumped up and skipped out of the room as Joy walked over to the desk. It was only know she realised the mess she had left. Pulling a blue handkerchief down her sleeve she tried to mop up the little blobs of ink.  
“I’m sorry Dad, I just saw your pen and wanted to use it for my letter. It makes it look so much more elegant. Doesn’t it?” She held up her letter, and apart from the little trail of ink dots, Gilbert had to admit her admired her penmanship.

“It does look very refined. Your writing is very neat,” he said.  
“Can I just use it again to sign my name?” She asked, and Gilbert nodded. With a smile she picked up the pen and signed it off

_Lots of love to everyone, Joy_

“I’ll go wash now,” she said. “Those hands will need a lot of work,” her father said. They were stained with the blue ink. Joy nodded and ran out to the washroom. Gilbert shook his head and fixed the items on his desk, he took an envelope and slid Joy’s letter inside and then made a note to tell Anne that he had figured out what to get their eldest for Christmas.  
“I feel she takes after you Anne-girl,” he said, that night as they prepared for bed.

“In another way?” Anne asked, she had always seen Joy rather like herself, or rather how she imagined she would have been if she had grown up in a happy home with both parents adoring her.  
“She’s going to write. Maybe she’ll write the next big novel.” Gilbert Blythe didn’t realise how close he was to being right. Even ten years later, picking up the scraps of paper littering Joy’s floor; no one expected her tales of a little red haired girl to fly off the bookshelves the way that they did in that golden period of the 1920s.


	2. Chapter 2

Almost twins they called themselves; everyone agreed that Joyce and James looked more alike than the actual Ingleside twins. Helped by Jem being rather large and Joy rather small, when Anne took them out as young children strangers presumed they were the same age.  
Their bond was forged the day Jem was born. Little Joyce Blythe was in a mood that morning. Susan had come to her when she cried and Aunt Marilla had dressed her and now it was Susan attempting to feed her. She wanted her Mama. She wanted her Dada. And she was letting this be known.  
The little bowl of porridge was sent to the ground with a crash, accompanied by a scream.  
“Dada!” Susan sighed, Joy was a dear baby but on her bad days she turned into a perfect terror.  
“It looks like we aren’t eating this morning Miss Joy,” Susan said. As she cleared the broken bowl Gilbert came into the kitchen; tired but smiling. It had been easier this time, no worrying. He picked up his daughter and she squealed until she realised who it was. Then she nuzzled her face into his neck and pushed her little hand between the buttons on his shirt. It was something she had alway done, resting her hand right on top of his heart. Gilbert had to admit that it made his heart soar every time. How they had been so lucky to keep this little Joy in their world.  
“Let’s go see your Mummy,” Gilbert said. “I’ll be sure she eats after Susan.” Susan Baker nodded; she didn’t fancy dealing with the monster again.  
Gilbert carried the toddler up the stairs and then knocked on his own door before walking in.  
“Mama!” Joy clapped her hands at the sight of her mother. Then she saw the thing in her arms.  
“You have a little brother now,” Gilbert said, setting her at the bottom of the bed. She crawled up the sheets and looked at it. It was small. It was red.  
“No,” Joy said.  
“Say hello to James Matthew,” Anne said, smiling at her daughter. Anne took Joy’s hand and put it on James’. Joy examined her new brother with wide, curious eyes.  
“Jam. My Jam?” Her parents laughed and nodded.  
That was it, the start of a wonderful relationship.

* * *

Marilla Cuthbert was not amused. Mrs Rachel Lynde was not amused. In the past hour they had to deal with spilt milk, a runaway chicken, a broken plant pot and manure covered boots leaving footprints through the Green Gables kitchen. All accidental of course; or so the two Blythes claimed, but the two older ladies had reached the end of their tether.  
“Go out and play in the woods, go visit the Wrights, just let us make supper in peace,” Marilla exclaimed.  
“We are sorry Aunt Marilla,” Little Jem said.  
“Are you sure we shouldn’t clean up?” Joy asked, looking at the footprints.  
“I think you have done quite enough,” Mrs Lynde said. They nodded and left the house. Joy rubbed her boots on the grass, hoping to clean them a little bit.  
“Lets go see if Jack and Cora are home,” Jem suggested. Joy nodded and they set off through the woods and fields to Lone Willow Farm.  
The Blythe duo couldn’t walk anywhere,they ran, jumped, skipped and turned somersaults, laughing all the time. Reaching the gate the raced to the front door, Jem edging in front of Joy by jumping up the front steps.  
“Joy and Jem Blythe,” Diana Wright said, opening the door.  
“Hello Aunt Diana,” they chorused.  
“Are Jack and Cora back from Charlottetown yet?” Jem asked.  
“Not until this evening I’m afraid,” she said, inviting the children in. “I just had a phone call from your father.”  
“Is Mummy ok?” Joy asked.  
“Yes, and so is your baby sister,” Diana smiled. Joy grinned and gave Jem and shove.  
“Are you sure it’s a girl Aunt Diana?” Jem asked with a frown.  
“Yes, little Bertha Marilla.”  
“Do you think we could ring for them?” Joy asked. Diana nodded and Joy ran to the little phone table.  
“Can I place a call to Dr Gilbert Blythe, in Ingleside, Glen St Mary please.” Joy waited a few minutes then a familiar voice answered.  
“Hello?”  
“Daddy! Jem!” Jem came running over and Joy held the ear piece between them.  
“Joy?” Gilbert said.  
“Mummy had the baby and it’s a girl,” Joy said, wanting confirmation.  
“Yes, another girl I’m afraid Jem,” he said. His son had been hoping for another brother.  
“And Mummy is well?” Joy checked. She had foggy memories of Shirley’s birth. Of a missing mother and exhausted father, while everyone else worried and spoke in hushed whispers.  
“Wonderfully so,” Gilbert reassured her. “I’ll be down to Avonlea tomorrow to get you and you can see for yourself.”  
“Oh yes!” The two said. They loved Avonlea holidays, but they were much more enjoyable when everyone was there. Now all they wanted was to be back home, with their family and the animals and Susan’s cooking.


	3. Chapter 3

The book was taunting her. There it was sitting on the highest library shelf, in its red leather glory saying ‘you can’t reach me!’ Now Joy knew the sensible thing to do would be to wait for Jem to finish his four o’clock class and then her rather long brother would be there to reach it for her. However, she had choir at half past six; which she couldn’t be late for. And she also could not wait any longer for the book oncomposition. 

While it wasn’t her brightest idea Joy decided she would climb the shelves, as it seemed like the best option. She looked around then grabbed onto a middle shelf and pulled herself up. She knelt up and wrapped her fingers around the book. She moved to climb down and lost her balance, landing in an ungraceful pile on the floor. 

She didn’t dare move, she could just picture everyone laughing at her. How could she be so stupid. Of course she would fall. She fell every time she attempted it at home. 

“Are you alright?” Being wrapped up in her thoughts Joy hadn’t noticed the young man crouch down beside her. At the voice she pushed herself into a sitting position. 

“I think so. My pride may have been severely bruised however,” she said. The figure in front of her was blurred and she let out a soft sigh as she brushed her hand across the floor in search of her glasses. 

“Here.” He placed the glasses into Joy’s hand. 

“Thank you.” Joy slipped her glasses back on to her nose, and she saw a young man; maybe two or three years older than herself. He had dark brown hair which stuck up a little, and dark blue, friendly eyes. 

“Here’s your book,” he said. “You’re studying music?”

“With English,” Joy replied, moving to stand up. He stood quickly and offered a hand. “Thank you.” Joy took it and stood up, wincing at the pain in her ankle. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He asked, keeping hold of her. 

“I’m fine. Just a bad ankle. What are you studying then?” Joy asked, moving the conversation from her ankle. 

“Science. I’m planning to start medical school in September,” he answered. 

“Ah, my father’s a doctor. It’s a busy job.” 

“But rewarding.” Joy nodded in agreement. She glanced at her wristwatch; she’d have to get to work if she wanted anything done this evening. 

“ I hope you’ll excuse me. I need to get to work. But thank you for your help Mr...” she trailed off. 

“Taylor. Nate Taylor,” he filled in. 

“Joyce Blythe. Thank you again,” she said, before she turned. He watched her walk away with only a slight limp. He had been sitting nearby when Joy appeared at the bookshelf and had watched in curiosity; wondering what book she was looking for, how she was planning to get it, and most importantly who was the pretty redhead he had spotted before on campus. 

Joy sat back at her table and was just planning her introduction to her essay on Beethoven when Jem dropped into the seat beside her. 

“Dad says-“ 

“Will you learn to whisper?” She hissed at her brother. He nodded then continued in a much lower voice. 

“Dad says, we will meet you after choir and go for dinner. Are you still coming to the talk he’s giving tomorrow,” Jem said, taking out a large novel and pad of paper. 

“Course I am. When is the paper due?” Joy asked. She was presuming tomorrow, but surely Jem wasn’t that unprepared. 

“Thursday,” Jem replied. “I don’t suppose you chose Moby Dick last year?”

“Frankenstein.” Joy’s novel of choice last year. Of course it was, Jem thought, what else would his normally angelic sister choose to study. 

The two worked in a comfortable silence, every so often whispering a question to the other. An hour later Joy began to pack away her books. 

“See you later,” she whispered, patting Jem’s shoulder as she walked away.

* * *

The lecture hall was full; Redmond students always turned out in droves to hear guest speakers. After all, to the bright new generation their Redmond professors just seemed a little ancient, guests could always be guaranteed to be more interesting. 

Nate Taylor has settled himself in a back corner to hear Dr Blythe speak, he watched as more students filed in, laughing with friends as they took their seats. He has a seat saved beside him for William, if he kept good on his word and showed up. As he waited for his friend to come in he saw her again. Miss Blythe entered the room, speaking animatedly to an auburn haired young man. They took seats a few rows in front of him and he couldn’t help but watch them for a few minutes. 

Why was she here if she was an English student? She never mentioned being interested in medicine. And who was he? A beau? A friend? They seemed very close, the way they were nudging each other and laughing. 

As if sensing she was being watched Joy turn around to gaze along the back row and Nate quickly looked down. Joy turned back just as the talk was about to begin. 

It was nothing new to Joy - the life of a small town doctor. She could have told you all about that just from being the daughter of one. Telephone calls in the middle of the night with births and deaths, an empty seat at the dining table, a distracted father trying to consider new ways to help the sick, but the thing Joy would mention the most is the feeling when her father had came home with good news; when a fever had broken or a child was born. How all of Ingleside would celebrate after Gilbert came home after nursing someone back to health over a series of sleepless nights. 

As she grew older and her father left the house in the late evening, she would often sit up in her little bed by the window, keeping her lamp lit, reading and watching for him to come home. Quite often she fell asleep long before Gilbert made it home and then he would slip into her room, fix her blankets and blow out the lamp; but when she didn’t she would creep downstairs and greet him with a hug and kiss, asking if it was a good night or a dark night. 

At the end of the talk all but he Blythe duo filed out of their seats and once it was empty they leapt to their feet and clapped. 

“Well said Dad,” Jem said. 

“You never mentioned occasionally getting paid in chicken,” Joy said. 

“I felt it better to leave that bit out,” Gilbert laughed. He lifted his hat and coat and Jem ran down the lecture steps to take his bag. 

“I’ll walk with you to the docks,” he said. 

“I would but I have a class,” Joy added. Gilbert nodded and the three of them walked out of the hall together. 

“I’ll see you next week though. When we’re home for spring break. Tell everyone I miss them so much,” Joy said. 

“I will,” Gilbert said, hugging his daughter. She stood and watched them walk away before she turned to start off in the opposite direction. 

Little did Joy know she was being watched. Nate Taylor had stopped under a tree; under the pretence of tying his shoe, though really waiting for Miss Blythe to exit the hall. 

As she hugged the doctor he realised why she was there. Dr Blythe. It must be her father. She had said he was a doctor, and there was something similar about them. The smile, he thought. 

“Miss Blythe!” Joy stopped and turned around. She was surprised to see Mr Taylor from the library walking to catch up with her. “How’s your ankle?” 

“Oh it’s much better. Thank you. I broke it a few times when I was younger and it doesn’t like getting bumped,” she said. 

“Ah, I saw you in the lecture hall. I didn’t realise you were interested in medicine.” 

“To a degree. I haven’t really a choice. The speaker was my father. My brother also wants to be a doctor. So I’m surrounded.” 

“You never considered medicine?” 

“A little when I was younger but I’m not the best with blood.” 

“Do you have plans for after Redmond?” 

“No. Not yet. I’m happy to wait and see where life takes me.” They stopped walking as they had reached the Foster building where Joy’s English classes took place. 

“I have class now. It was nice speaking to you Mr Taylor,” Joy said. 

“And you Miss Blythe. I hope to see you around again soon,” he replied. Joy nodded and walked inside. 

“Who was that you walked in with? I thought you were spending the morning with Jem?” Sophie Wilder asked, taking Joy’s arm. 

“He helped me yesterday in the library. He was asking was I alright,” Joy replied. 

“And that was it?” Sophie asked. 

“And that was it.” 

Joy didn’t want romance. She wanted to keep it within the pages of her books. It had happened before and ended badly, therefore she had decided she would never fall in love until she was absolutely sure about the person. There was most definitely nothing between her and the stranger she had met twice. 


	4. Chapter 4

Joyce Blythe was in a world of her own as she plodded through the snowy field towards Lone Willow Farm. As she walked she read the latest letter from her parents. They were in Paris. They had put all the letters in one envelope, so she was now on her way to give the twins their letters; Walter had taken Rilla’s to Grandmother Blythe’s, while Jem was forced to stay in Green Gables, recovering from a rather nasty cold. 

“What are you doing up here Titch?” Jack Wright came out the trees, hockey stick and skates hanging over his shoulder, and caught up with Joy quickly. 

“A letter for the twins,” Joy said, ignoring the jab at her height. Just because Jack had suddenly sprouted up while being at Queens did not mean he needed to laugh about her short stature. She just hadn’t grown yet. 

“Ah. Where’re Aunt Anne and Uncle Gil now?” 

“Paris. They climbed up the Effiel Tower! I’m going to go to Europe some day,” she said and he laughed. 

“You get seasick on the boat to Halifax,” Jack replied. 

“ I was young then,” Joy said, and she was. She was only seven or maybe eight. “What were you doing?”

“Hockey. It’ll probably be the last game before the pond melts and I’m back to Queens tomorrow anyway,” Jack replied.Joy nodded, she tended to stay away from the ice. It had taken almost 13 years to be able to walk without falling over, ice skating was a disaster waiting to happen. 

“I’ll go with you tomorrow though if you want,” Jack added, with a teasing grin on his face. He remembered the last time Joy attempted skating all too well; he and Freddie had to carry her back to Green Gables, where her father made the diagnosis she had broken her ankle. 

“I’ll hit you over the head with that hockey stick if you aren’t careful!” 

Jack laughed and started to run the rest of the way home, Joy rolled her eyes and took off after him. Taking an idea from her threat as she began to catch up Joy reach forward and grabbed the end of the hockey stick, pulling Jack back and causing him to fall into the snow. Though, having not let go in time Joy was pulled down as he fell. 

“See? That’s what you get,” Jack laughed, sitting up and brushing off the snow. 

“You deserved it,” Joy answered, throwing snow at him as she knelt up.

* * *

Anne Cordelia, or Cora, Wright was far from stupid and she wasn’t blind either. Contrary to what it seemed peopled believed. Cora watched from the stairs as her older and younger brother put on their jackets and said goodbye their parents, claiming they were going to play football. Just as they had said the past three weeks. 

If she had to guess Freddie was off walking in the forest with one Miss Lucia Peterson, the current junior school teacher; beloved by all of her students under ten years of age and equally loved by Freddie. 

Jack was slightly more difficult, he would only come home from White Sands on a Friday evening, so why he would disappeared on a Saturday, as soon as chores were finished, was a bit of a mystery to Cora. He was always dressed well when he left, so he was planning to meet someone. He was normally late home for dinner and he smelt like the train station. So presumably he went to Charlottetown. There was nowhere else close enough to get there and back in one afternoon. Now, what or who was in Charlottetown? That was Cora’s question. 

Through the window she could see her brothers walking away, still laughing with each other. She was sure they knew where the other was going. 

“Cora, are you making that cake for Joy coming to dinner?” Diana asked, appearing from the parlour. 

“I’m going to start it now Mother,” Cora said. 

Cora loved baking and cooking and she loved making the favourites of her family and friends; which is why she had all of the ingredients ready for a chocolate sponge. Not a normal pudding in the Wright house, but a favourite of Joy Blythe, their guest for the evening. 

Joy had started her first year at Queens and Diana had to taken to inviting her to Avonlea as often as possible. She didn’t want her feeling homesick. So Joy would come on a Saturday evening, stay the night, attend church, visit Marilla and then get the train back to Queens. 

Cora was just finishing icing her cake when the kitchen door slammed. Freddie sat on the stool and pulled off his shoes. 

“What is that smell?” Cora asked, though she didn’t need the answer. Freddie held up a shoe and it was caked in dung. 

“Get that outside. Before it falls on the floor,” Cora said. “You know mother would be angry.” 

“I will, I will,” Freddie laughed, standing up again and carrying his shoes out to the back porch. 

“Make sure you scrub it all off,” Cora called after him. 

“Will do.” 

Cora covered her cake with a cloth and moved it to the window sill. 

“Hey Cora?” Freddie shouted. Cora walked over to the screen door. 

“I’m not cleaning your shoes,” she said, presuming that’s what he wanted. 

“No. Look,” Freddie pointed past the barn, into the pasture. 

“Is that Joy?” She squinted at the two figures. The taller one was definitely Jack, the other resembled Joy. But why on Earth were they together. Unless... 

“They aren’t? Are they?” Cora turned to Freddie. 

“I know he went to Charlottetown. That’s it. Never said anything else,” the eldest Wright replied. 

“Not like him,” Cora said. “Interesting.” The siblings stood for another few minutes, until their suspicions were confirmed with Jack appearing to kiss Joy, it was too far away to say it was her cheek but the Wrights had seen what they needed to. 

“Not a word. Not yet anyway,” Cora said to Freddie before she went back inside. Oh how she was going to have a very interesting conversation with Joyce Blythe that night.

* * *

The envelope had sat unopened on her desk for two days - she was trying to ignore it. Joy couldn’t bring herself to open it but at the same time she couldn’t throw it out. So it sat, almost pushed under the typewriter where it could easily be forgotten about. Until Rilla saw it. 

Joy was fixing her sheets when her baby sister walked in, holding a box of pins and a comb. 

“Can you help?” She asked, setting herself down on Joy’s desk chair. 

“Sure,” Joy said, putting her pillow back on the bed. 

“All up?” Rilla asked. Joy shook her head, she was still too young. 

“No. Could you imagine what people would say. Miss Rilla Blythe has too many airs and graces. Wearing her hair up when she’s just sixteen. And anyway pins are uncomfortable,” Joy said, scratching at her own head. There were times she wished she could cut it all off again. Rilla sighed and handed Joy the comb. Joy tugged it through her sister’s hair and then began to braid it. She pinned the two braids into two loops and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder. 

“Done.” 

“Thank you,” Rilla said, standing, “what’s this?” She had spotted the letter and lifted it. “From Jack. Why haven’t you read it? And why did he write to you?” Rilla would have been barely ten the day they argued, when their friendship since birth appeared to crumble. 

“Haven’t had a chance and I don’t know,” Joy replied with a shrug. Rilla nodded, not feeling like taking the subject any further. She thanked her sister again a pond closed the door when she left. 

The letter was now sitting on top of the typewriter and Joy had a strange urge to read it. She lifted it and sat down on her bed. 

_ 12 March 1916 _

_ Dear Joy, _

_ You probably won’t read this letter. I can picture you ripping it up or burning it. The trenches are a dark place and I can’t help but think of your optimism. Though even you would struggle to find something good here. Well actually you’d try to make friends with the rats I think. London and Paris remind me of you. I kind of always thought if I made it to them you’d be there too, talking my ear off with useless facts. I’m not going to write anymore. There’s no point in wasting paper if you’re never going to read this.  _

_ I’m sorry again Joy.  _

_ Jack _

It was short, to the point and Joy could hear Jack saying each word. The edge of the page was curled slightly, because he rolled the edges while he was thinking. She would reply. How could she not? She decided she would put that Jonah day out of her mind and write to Jack exactly as she used to. 

_ Dearest Jack,  _

_ After Jem’s rather vivid descriptions I think I can picture the trenches well. Walter is honest in his letters while at the same time not writing too much of the conditions. I wish I could say the same for Jem. He writes to me of the gore a little too often. It must be the doctor in him; he has no reservations about telling me of the bugs and trench foot. Now I know Jem truly is the other half of my soul and we have always shared everything, but these are things id rather he not tell me in such detail. I have started to scan his letters to try and ignore the gory parts.  _

_ I still think about London and Paris, I’ll get to them some day. Maybe on my book tour. If I ever finish it. Walter tells me it will be worth the work once it is finished. However, there are days when I get so stuck on what to write I just want to burn it all and give up on writing. I probably couldn’t live without scribbling though, I need it to clear my head. And my head has needed a lot of clearing recently.  _

_ I’m teaching in Four Winds school this term, the old teacher had to leave suddenly and they needed someone urgently, I was the only candidate. I do enjoy it, it keeps me busy. At home I feel it can be too crowded when it comes to doing jobs with Mother and Susan and Rilla. You can see the beach from the classroom window, I think I may take the students there for lessons when the weather gets warmer.  _

_ With my first wage I have treated myself and ordered a new Sunday dress from the Eaton’s catalogue. I may have stood on my current one and tore a hole in the skirt. It is patched up but doesn’t look right now.  _

_ There is a rehearsal for the church choir this morning so I’m afraid I’ll have to end this letter here. I will post it on my way.  _

_ Always yours, _

_ Joy _

She folded it up and put it in and envelope, copying the return address on Jack’s letter. She put it on the stack of letters she had ready to send that afternoon - to Jem, Walter, Shirley, the twins and Cora. There was one more letter sitting; half written, as it had been for nearly a week. She would reply to Nate’s letter tomorrow, she had hit a bit of a block. She didn’t know what to write anymore. He seemed so far away in London, he had stopped mentioning the future; in fact she almost thought he seemed to prefer England to Canada. 

At 24 years of age Joy Blythe still hadn’t grown out of the habit of jumping down the stairs; most people would be put off jumping after breaking a bone (or four), but not Joy. This was how Anne knew her daughter was coming downstairs and she met her at the front door with some letters of her own. 

“Lots of letters today,” Anne said.

“Jem, Walter, the twins, Shirley, Cora and Jack,” Joy said, going through them, not wanting to draw attention to the last name. 

“Jack?” Anne asked, she couldn’t help be curious. They hadn’t spoken in five years. She wasn’t quite sure why, no one was. Though she believed her daughter’s stubborn streak may have been to blame. 

“Yes. I’ll be back soon. Choir ends at 2,” Joy said, grabbing her hat from the stand and kissing her mother on the cheek. Anne watched as she walked off down the path, and she decided she would write a letter to Diana. To see what she knew about the situation. 


End file.
